


Only my father calls me Number One

by cupofcoffee



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Bad Parenting, Caning, Child Abuse, Corporal Punishment, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Face Slapping, Hurt Klaus Hargreeves, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Not Beta Read, POV Luther Hargreeves, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 16:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18450227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupofcoffee/pseuds/cupofcoffee
Summary: The one where Luther does what he's told and Klaus is Klaus. Featuring Sir Reginald's famously good parenting techniques.





	Only my father calls me Number One

**Author's Note:**

> Watching the Umbrella Academy gave me deeply unsettling vibes about their family dynamic. This is my take on a widely canonical idea - that Luther was somehow used as an enforcer of their father's tyranny and that Klaus is all kinds of messed up for a wide variety of reasons. Sorry for the hurt and relative lack of comfort. I may add more chapters at a later date. Hope you enjoy, you bunch of sadists!

Luther glared at Klaus’s empty seat, spearing a fork through his bacon with enough force that the china plate shattered into three separate shards. Sir Reginald looked up over his paper, observing him with his eyebrow slightly raised, mouth downturned in disapproval. The other children avoided his gaze. They knew that if their father joined them for breakfast then it was to be eaten in silence. Luther also knew how important it was that everyone be present. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and turned to see Grace smiling down at him, with a fresh plate held in her hand.

“Here dear, let me clean this up for you. We wouldn’t want you getting cut, now would we?”

Diego snorted under his breath.

“Is there something of pressing importance that you wish to share with the rest of us, Number Two?” Reginald asked in an irritated tone, holding his hand aloft with an empty coffee cup for their mother to fill.

Allison was looking a little peaky, barely touching her food. He’d seen her and Klaus passing a bottle of dad’s stolen liquor between them last night, blasting obnoxious music and twirling around. They hadn’t seen him outside of the door and he certainly hadn’t been invited to join in. It was for her own good that he went to tell their dad. Luther wasn’t about to let Klaus corrupt her. He doubted she would be in very much trouble, as everyone would know who was really to blame out of the two.

“Good morning Sir.” Pogo appeared in the doorframe, hands clasped over one another and looking severe. “Master Klaus has returned. He is aware that his presence is required.”

Luther ate his breakfast, watching the clock. It took another twenty minutes for their delinquent sibling to grace them with his presence. He waltzed into the kitchen, tie loosely hanging from his neck, long sleeved school shirt tucked into the waistband of one of Allison’s pleated skirts. It brushed the middle of his bare thighs as he walked. He padded to his chair in socked feet and ran a hand through his unruly curls. Klaus had begun to refuse their mandatory haircuts since the age of fourteen. They were sixteen now and through sheer force of will and determined contrariness he had managed to persuade Grace that if he was going to fight crime, he should at least look pretty doing it.

“What’s on the menu Mom? I’m starving!”

Luther glared at his brother. Klaus hadn’t even bothered to properly wipe his eyeliner off. No doubt he’d probably been out drinking and god knows what else and hadn’t thought to eat. Then again, not thinking was a common theme in Klaus’s behaviour.

“Well dear, there’s…”

“Number Four,” their father interrupted, “breakfast was at seven o’clock. If you were hungry, then perhaps you should have been on time. Grace, begin clearing the dishes.”

Klaus slumped a little in his chair at hearing this, staring at the table sullenly. Luther remembered rather painfully when they were eight and forks had been tied to the backs of their chairs. Prodding in the back with a fork was enough to keep even the most fidgety of them sitting straight. It seemed that Klaus had temporarily forgotten this lesson. He amused himself by imagining if their father brought back the forks, but only for Klaus. After the plates were cleared, the children waited for their father to stand, signalling the end of breakfast. Diego was absently carving another notch into the table, only stopping to give their mom annoyingly adoring looks as she swept around them to clear the table.

“Number Three, Number Four and Number One, you will accompany me to my office. Number Two will continue with his target training. We’ll repeat yesterday’s exercise and have Grace stand in front of the target. Number Seven, you will measure his efforts and report to me.” Diego looked ashen, staring into the middle distance. Vanya gave a tiny nod of her head in agreement, remaining small and hunched in her chair at the end of the table.

He saw Allison casting Klaus an alarmed look, but he just sighed and shrugged. It really pissed Luther off how nonchalant Klaus could be about pretty much everything. Why did he get to be so carefree when the rest of them had to work so hard? It wasn’t fair.

He was pleased to see that Klaus finally looked a little worried when they were all standing in dad’s office, he was chewing his lip, green eyes darting from Allison to their father and to him.

“Number One has informed me that the two of you were drinking in Number Three’s room last night and that you, Number Four, then proceeded to leave the premises without my permission.” Klaus’s eyes snapped to him and he scowled, crossing his arms tightly over his narrow frame.

“Well thank you ever so much for your round-the-clock policing for Dad _Number One_. We can all sleep safely in our beds knowing that you’re creeping around in the shadows watching our every move. Have you considered joining the Gestapo after the academy? I think you’d be a great fit. Do you watch us in the showers too? You’re such a…” Whatever he had been about to say was cut short by their father slapping him across the face. The smack rang out in the office simultaneously with Allison’s sharp intake of breath and Luther watched as Klaus fell back into her, hand coming up to his reddening cheek. Finally, Luther thought, Dad’s managed to shut him up for a few seconds.

“Number Four that is enough of your insolence!” Reginald said sharply. “Do not blame your brother for your own poor decision making. I assume that you are both aware of how immensely disappointed I am in both of you. You are supposed to be shining examples of super-human ability and yet you chose to poison your bodies and minds and jeopardise any potential mission. I will not permit such blatant disrespect and you will both be punished. Number Four, as there is no doubt you are the instigator of this drunken foolishness,” their father’s eyes narrowed and his raised voice became almost a growl, “you will be punished both for insubordination and for corrupting your sibling. Although individual training is evidently a strong motivator, there are other more efficient methods of discipline at my disposal that I know you will find equally as unpleasant.”

Luther watched curiously as Klaus’s eyes grew wide at the mention of special training. He scoffed internally, of course his brother was a coward as well as a delinquent. What could possibly be so bad about sitting around waiting for a chat with some ghosts was beyond him. The boy’s willowy body seemed to sag in relief at the knowledge that he wouldn’t have to do individual training.

“I had believed that this form of punishment would no longer be necessary at your age, but if you insist on behaving like an unruly child, then I shall be forced to continue to treat you as one. You, Number Four, will be caned and then spend the rest of the day in your room to reflect on your behaviour. Number Three, you will spend the day in your own room. I trust that the isolation will be a sufficient reminder to avoid being so easily swayed into misbehaving. You may leave.”

Allison looked shocked and nodded. “I’m sorry Dad.”

“Spare me your meaningless platitudes and leave us.” Reginald dismissed her and Luther watched Allison walk quickly to the door, turning to mouth a “sorry” at Klaus. Klaus had gone pink and wide eyed, looking like some sort of cornered animal.

“I’m not a kid anymore! If you think I’m just going to bend merrily over and let you beat my ass with that evil cane of yours, you’ve got another thing coming!”

“Which is exactly why Number One is still in the room.” Reginald replied in a bored tone. “Number Four, I would suggest you save yourself the embarrassment of resisting and assume the position over the desk. If you do not, then Number One is more than capable of assisting you.”

Reginald crossed the room and opened a cabinet, withdrawing a wicked looking thin wicker cane. Luther was stunned. He had been looking forward to watching Klaus’s dressing down, speculating that he’d be there for a lecture and maybe a well-deserved slap. He hadn’t ever really contemplated that his father would actually want him to do something like this. Klaus looked at him with true betrayal, one side of his elfin face pinker than the other.  

“Are you really going to help him hit me?” Klaus’s voice wavered, sounding tearful.

“Well, Number One? You clearly disapprove of your brother’s behaviour and believe that he should be punished, do you not?” Reginald was looking thoroughly wearied by Klaus’s teenage dramatics.

“Well, yeah but I…”

“And do you not trust my judgement?”

“Of course, Sir, but…”

“This is sick! Your both perverted sadists!” Klaus yelled, making to push past Luther. Luther caught him by his slender bicep, stopping him in his tracks.

“You know, if you weren’t such a brat you wouldn’t be here in the first place!” Luther yelled back, giving his smaller brother a little shake and feeling some flicker of spiteful glee when he flinched.

“You’re on his side?!” Klaus asked incredulously, tugging at his arm with no success. “Christ on a cracker Luther, I knew you were a kiss-ass but this is a new low, even for you!”

“Do you ever shut up?” Luther growled, dragging Klaus’s scrawny frame over to their dad’s desk.

“It appears you have made the right decision, Number One. It is your responsibility as leader to maintain discipline. Without discipline, you can never hope to reach your full potential as a team. Stand at the other side of the desk and hold his arms.” Luther manoeuvred himself awkwardly around the desk, moving their father’s chair to the side with his free hand and keeping hold of a thrashing Klaus in the other. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his arm and saw that the little menace was biting him! He roughly grabbed Klaus’s other bicep and yanked him forwards over the desk, keeping him bent over the oak surface as much as he tried to tug away.

“He bit me!”

“Yeah I did! I hope I gave you rabies, you stupid nark!”

“Enough of this foolishness, Number Four,” their father scolded. Klaus’s entire body flinched and then went still when their father yanked up the back of his pleated skirt and let it pool around his waist. Even Luther blushed when their father also immediately tugged Klaus’s white regulation underpants down below his bottom with the same perfunctory attitude. Luther steeled himself as Reginald stepped back and gripped the cane with purpose before bringing it town with a swishing thwack.

“Ow!” Klaus whined unhappily, his muscles straining under Luther’s hands.

“Quiet Number Four.” Reginald warned, whipping the cane across Klaus’s backside again. Klaus squeaked and stamped his foot.

“Ouch! God that hurts! Let me up Luther, you stupid…”

“I told you to be quiet Number Four, unless you wish to recuperate from your punishment with individual training.” Reginald scolded as he struck him again.

Klaus screwed his eyes shut and bit into his lip. Luther knew he really should feel more vindicated seeing his brother brought down a peg or two. Maybe he wouldn’t be quite so insufferable from now on. Luther had never been caned before, but had vague memories of his siblings talking about it in hushed, fearful tones when they were younger. It had always seemed obvious enough to him that the key to not getting punished was to just behave and do what they were all supposed to do. From the way Klaus was flinching and whimpering it looked like it was a fairly painful ordeal and he almost felt sorry for him, but some day Klaus had to know his mouth would get him into trouble. Luther felt himself flinching at the swish and thwack of the cane, but had to remind himself that this was all worth it to save Allison getting involved with any of Klaus’s drinking and bad habits.

“I’m sorry!” Klaus eventually blurted through gritted teeth, sounding strained. “I’m sorry, okay Dad?”

His scrawny body was trembling and he breathing harshly. Reginald remained stern and gave him another stroke.

“Sorry for what exactly? Your repeated disobedience or the fact that you are being forced to suffer the consequences of your actions?”

Luther couldn’t help watching the cane as it fell with morbid fascination. His view was pretty obscured by his awkward position holding Klaus down over the desk, but the latest blow seemed to hit his brother across the back of the thighs because his legs buckled and he fell limp against the desk. He loosened his grip on his brother’s forearms and Klaus pulled them inwards, burying his face in the crook of his elbow, shoulders shaking and routinely making sniffing noises. Reginald hit him again and Klaus began to sob loudly, flinching into the desk as if he wanted to dissolve into it.

“Pl…please st…o…stop Daddy! Please it h…h..urts! I’ve learnt my lesson! I’ll be good I promise!”

Reginald pursed his lips, clinically observing Klaus, before striding back to the cabinet and returning the cane. Luther released his grip on his brother all together, fairly surprised when Klaus stayed slumped against the desk, crying into his folded arms.

“That’s enough of the theatrics Number Four, there’s no need to carry on like that. Your infantile begging is no less tiresome in this situation than it is in individual training. Compose yourself and re-dress. I feel as though I needn’t remind you that leaving your room while you are being punished will result in more of this…unpleasantness. I also expect you to be in the correct uniform the next time I see you. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir.” Klaus hurriedly replied, finally seeming to realise that he wasn’t held down anymore and reaching back quickly to yank his underwear back up. He stood up, wincing and pulled his crumpled skirt back down, smoothing the creases out with shaking fingers. His pale eyes were red rimmed, long eyelashes dark and stuck together in wet spikes of tears and mascara remnants, tear tracks shining on his cheeks. Reginald observed the middle child with an unreadable expression, reaching out to grasp Klaus firmly by the chin and force him to look at him.

“This method of discipline appears to have procured a favourable result within an exceedingly short period of time. Pity, I would have resorted back to this far earlier if I had known its efficacy. If you leave the premises without permission, I will cane the soles of your feet. If you are caught stealing from me again, I will cane your hands. Is that something you want to happen, Number Four?”

Klaus shuddered and shook his head jerkily, curls bobbing, while still being held in Reginald’s firm grip.

“No Sir.”

“Good. I’m glad we understand each other.” He released his grip on Klaus, who stumbled backwards massaging his jaw and was determinedly looking anywhere but their father now he had the choice. “Number One, see to it that Number Four goes directly to the bathroom to wash his face and then to his room. We wouldn’t want him to get lost on the way.”

Klaus gave Luther a withering look as a tear rolled off his pointed chin and walked stiffly out of the office. Luther followed Klaus out of their father’s office. Klaus was limping slightly, one of his knee-high socks had fallen down and pooled around his thin ankle. There was a livid pink line across the back of each of his thighs just below the hem of the skirt, Luther winced.

“Klaus…” Luther began, not even quite knowing what he was going to say.

“Don’t.” Klaus said savagely and with enough vitriol that Luther stumbled backwards.

“You know I wouldn’t have had to have done that if you’d just done what you’re told!” Luther shouted after Klaus’s back as they rounded the corridor to their rooms. Klaus span around.

“You didn’t _have_ to do anything Luther! You chose to help him. You chose to hold me down so he could beat and humiliate me!” He stormed off past his room to the bathroom at the end of the hall. Luther stomped after him.

“Will you stop being such a drama queen?!” He caught up with him in the bathroom, watching with crossed arms as the smaller boy splashed his face with cold water. Klaus was furiously scrubbing at his eyes to remove the smudges of pencil and mascara and tears. He threw the wadded-up tissue at the bin and missed, looking up at Luther defiantly.

“Oh no Luther, look at that! I littered like the hardened criminal I am. You better go tell Dad that I’m up to no good again.” His voice was cracked and teary, but he made a solid effort to shoulder Luther sharply out of the doorway.

“Klaus, he caned your scrawny little ass, he didn’t beat you to a pulp! You’ve had worse in our combat sessions.”

Klaus laughed almost hysterically. “I am so not in the mood to quibble over semantics with you and also that is so NOT the point I was making! So will you kindly fuck off back to Daddy dearest and leave me ALONE!” He slammed the door to his bedroom so hard it rattled on his hinges.

He was left staring at the closed door, half contemplating going in there and yelling some more. Stupid, selfish, irresponsible Klaus making him feel guilty for doing what he was told and trying to do the right thing. He turned to storm off down the corridor and made eye contact with Allison, whose pretty face was soured with contempt. Her dark eyes felt like they were burning into him.

“Allison, I’m not sorry for telling Dad. I’ve got to stop you from getting hurt or messed up, I…”

“Is that true?” She interrupted him.

“What?” He asked distractedly, feeling exhausted all of a sudden.

“What Klaus said. Did you…you didn’t help Dad hurt him?...Did you?”

“Look, Allison, I thought you’d be the first person to agree that Klaus takes it too far sometimes. Hell, all the time!”

Allison blinked, taking a step backwards.

“Are you serious? Is that a yes?” She asked incredulously, looking at him as if he’d grown two-heads.

“It’s no different to pinning him on a matt during sparring, Allison. He was trying to get a rise out of Dad and me!” He shrugged, exasperated. “He was just being a brat, like always! He even bit me look!” He stuck out his arm, pointing at the raised crescent of teeth marks visible on his skin.

“Was that before or after you held him down?”

Luther spluttered indignantly. Why was he always the bad guy? All he did is what he was told, it’s not like he could refuse their father any better than any of the rest of them!

“I’m supposed to be the leader! Dad said…”

“God Luther, do you even hear yourself? I’m going to check on him.” She made to leave from the doorway and he blocked her path. “What are you doing?!”

“Allison, you’re supposed to be in your room. I don’t want you to get in any more trouble!” He gently held her at arm’s length. She stopped moving and fixed him with a steely glare.

“ _I heard a rumour_ that you feel bad for what you did to Klaus!”

Luther felt his eyes glaze over, for a moment he felt paralysed and as if cold water was trickling down his skin. Oh god, his gut was twisting, he felt a stinging in his eyes. He lifted his hand up to his face and was surprised to find it wet. _Klaus_.

 

Oh god, what had he done?


End file.
